


Speechless

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Series: Darkness and Light [12]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escape, Execution, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Muteness, Post-Episode: s09e02 The Witch's Familiar, Prison, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: The events of "Darkness and Light" left Clara mute. Will she get her ability to speak back?To make matter's worse she is imprisoned and just saw the Doctor being executed.Warning: If you don't see Clara and Twelve in a romantic way, you might prefer to avoid this story.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Darkness and Light [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489118
Comments: 35
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With this world standing again on the edge of a war I thought I should write how Clara gets her ability to speak back before it is too late.  
> For those who are new to this, you might want to read [Darkness and Light](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489118) and eventually [ Mother's Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269084/chapters/50639765) before. It is not necessary, but some things make probably more sense with that knowledge.

“Come on, Clara Oswald. Get up, up your arse and think!”

She told herself. Yes, she had seen the Doctor die before her eyes. There was no doubting it. They made her watch as they cut his throat. Actually, they nearly cut off his head. She had seen his blood and how his lifeless body slumped to the floor.

It had been horrific.

She couldn’t dwell on that thought.

There would be time for grieving later.

Now, she needed to focus on how to get out of that prison. And afterwards? Going to the TARDIS and get out of here, of course, like they always had done when the Doctor was still alive. Sufficient as a plan.

She searched the whole room. There was no ventilation shaft. Of course not. There never was. The air was exchanged through small outlets, no chance to enter them. She searched everywhere; under the bed, at the walls, beneath the small toilet.

What was that? It seemed the tile on one side of the toilet had a double seam to it. Oh yes. It was different. It nearly seemed like… Oh, yes, amateurs! Obviously, they had glued that one in with silicone. If she was lucky… She began to scrape the silicone with her fingernails until she could remove the tile.

Just like she had hoped, she found a framing construction behind it. Good. Like all wood constructions they were not really built to last when in constant contact with humidity. Maybe there was a chance to break the decaying battens down and find a way down to the sewage system or something like that.

As she examined the whole construction, she suddenly realized that the space behind the wall was much larger than she had expected. It nearly seemed like…

Right. There was a whole service tunnel behind it. She could feel pipes and cables running along the walls and the ceiling. Obviously, the tile she had removed was meant to be the access for maintenance works. The tunnel itself was not too spacious, but she was sure she could squeeze herself in if she removed a few more tiles.

Carefully avoiding making too much noise she broke a few more tiles loose and removed some of the decaying battens. When the opening was wide enough, she crawled inside. She had no idea where this tunnel would lead, but she had to try.

It was dark and tight. At times she thought she would remain stuck, but she always managed to break free and crawl on. After a few meters this tunnel led to a bigger tunnel with more pipes and cables. Here, she could at least crawl on her knees and elbows. After a few bends and turns the pipes turned left and the cables right.

She stopped for a moment to consider which ones she should follow. She reasoned that the pipes would more likely lead to an outside source like a sewage or a well and followed those. Suddenly, she heard a noise from far behind her in the tunnel.

She started to crawl faster. This time there wouldn’t be a Doctor to help her out if she got into trouble. She had to survive all by herself.

After another few meters she saw light. She discovered that the tunnel ended in a huge room with the heating and water treatment facilities for the Zygon rebels’ headquarters. She carefully peeked out from the tunnel.

A Zygon was near the main tank. They didn’t look like a guard, more like a facilities manager. They worked on one of the pipes, releasing water from a pipe, back turned towards her.

Clara considered her options. The tunnel ended about two meters above the ground. If she grabbed one of the pipes that left the tunnel above her head, it was just a small leap down. There was a door to the left. She hoped it was an emergency exit that lead outside.

But what about the Zygon? She figured that even if they weren’t a guard, they would try to stop her. At least they would alarm the guards. She had to incapacitate them. She let her eyes wander across the room. To the right was a workbench with tools. One of them was a huge pipe wrench.

It was a bold plan and required more luck than her control freak personality would have liked, but she had to try, especially as she heard the noise behind her coming nearer, now distinctively sounding like someone was crawling through the tunnel as well.

She grabbed one of the pipes and let herself swing into the room. She leaped down, jumped to the workbench, grabbed the wrench, gathered all her strength and, with all the rage she felt against the species that had killed her best friend, let the wrench crash down on the head of the Zygon.

They didn’t make a sound as they tumbled to the floor. She kicked them with her foot, ready to strike again, but they seemed unconscious, if not dead. She dropped the wrench and ran towards the exit. Of course, the door was locked.

She looked to the workbench once more. On its side was a large crowbar. She took it and started to pry the door open.

She heard a sound from above her head. Someone was coming through the tunnel she had left just minutes earlier. When she saw a head approaching, she took the crowbar and hit with all the force she had. At this angle, it would probably not have the desired effect, but maybe it gave her a bit of a head start before that creature would be able to follow her.

She turned to the door and worked even faster. Finally, she managed to break the door open. As she had hoped, it led outside. In the far distant she saw the road that would lead her to the place they parked the TARDIS a few hours earlier.

She started to run. When she was halfway there, she heard someone running behind her. She doubled her efforts and ran even faster. It was not fast enough; she heard the footsteps coming nearer.

Luckily the TARDIS was already in sight. The TARDIS opened her doors wide so she could jump inside. She sent a mental “thank you” to the old girl and ran towards the console. To her shock, the TARDIS hadn’t closed the doors behind her, and she heard her persecutor enter behind her.

She was still short of breath when she turned around.

What she saw there really took her breath away.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor stood there, eyes wide, staring at her as if she was a ghost. His clothes were ragged and there was a bleeding wound near the hairline. But there was no sign of a cut near his throat.

Was there an explanation for this? Of course, there was. He was a Zygon who had taken on the Doctor’s form to trick her and lure her back to the headquarters. She needed to get him out of the TARDIS and then escape back to Earth. Then, she would have time to think about what she should do now.

So, the best option was to play along and pretend to believe that he was the Doctor. Then, she just needed to find a way to trick him into leaving the TARDIS before her, so she could…

“You…”

The Doctor hollered now. She looked into his eyes and was surprised to find pure hatred in them. He had never looked at her like that. Annoyed, disappointed, confused, hurt and even angry, yes. But never hateful. Even when she had betrayed him, these eyes had held an expression of understanding and affection for her. Maybe it was because this wasn’t the Doctor and she could sense the Zygon behind the disguise?

“You killed Clara and now dare to impersonate her? To come here like this, trying to steal my TARDIS? The nerve you lot have got!”

Okay, this was something she hadn’t expected. This Zygon didn’t try to lure her into a trap, this Zygon was obviously out to kill her. She took a few steps back and grabbed a hold on the console.

Meanwhile, the Doctor continued speaking, menacingly calm, fire in his eyes, fists clenched:

“Oh, you understand nothing, do you? You lot killed my best friend before my very eyes. Well, so that you know: if you thought this would break me, you understand nothing at all. I will take revenge and I will not rest until I have had it and have had it completely. I am not the Doctor anymore. I am just me. I will kill you and every other Zygon on Earth. Every man, every woman, every child of your damn species. You will suffer and you will scream, but I will end you all. And I will start with you!”

Contrary to the meaning of these words, a wave of relief washed over her when she looked into the hateful eyes of this desperate man. This was not a Zygon luring her into a trap. This was her Doctor who – like her – had been tricked by the Zygons into believing that they killed his best friend.

There he stood, trembling with emotion, wanting to take revenge for what the Zygons had done to her. His hate and desperation convinced her that he was indeed the Doctor.

He was alive!

She opened her mouth to calm him down and tell him that she wasn’t a Zygon. But she couldn’t say a word. Right, she was mute since the Dalek particles had attacked her brain.

The last few weeks she had been able to adapt to it. Most of the time they both didn’t need many words to understand each other. They had learned some signs but without really getting as far as learning sign language. Most of the time she just wrote down what she wanted to say to him.

So, now she didn’t know how to make him understand that they both were fooled by the Zygons and they were both really themselves. But it was high time to get that point across, because the Doctor was approaching now, and he seemed willing to kill her with his bare hands.

She considered her options. If she fled downstairs to the rooms, she would have more options to hide. But would the TARDIS help her, or would she show the Doctor her hiding places? Easy, she would always help her thief, no matter how confused and misguided he acted. She might even actively trap her somewhere.

So, upstairs was probably the better option. There were several staircases leading there and enough furniture to drag in his way until she got an idea how she could stop him and explain to him that they both were real.

She ran upstairs to the library, the Doctor close behind her. Ah, the blackboard. She grabbed a piece of chalk and scribbled “I’m Clara” on it.

“Ha, I guessed you would say that, Zygella!”

He growled and grabbed the poker stick from the fireside.

She thought again and scribbled “Be a Doctor”, adding three exclamation marks.

“I told you I’m not a Doctor anymore. I’m a Time Lord seeking revenge and I got all of time and space to get it. I told you I will end you and I will end you right here and now. You are lucky, it will be a quick death. There are many more of your species out there, so I don’t have time to waste.”

It was a menacing sight. His eyes were glistering with grim determination. She tried to come up with a solution to stop his rage. At least long enough for her to scribble an explanation on the blackboard. As long as she locked eyes with him, there still seemed to be something that made him hesitate. But if she would turn her back now, he would very likely strike and kill her.

Think!

He approached her. She took a few steps sideways and brought the armchair between herself and the Doctor. She figured she could duck behind it if he should really strike. The poker would crash the chair instead of her head.

Then, she made the “Time out” gesture towards him.

He stood there, his eyes flickering with hate and rage, the poker held high, ready for the blow.

“You better have something important to say, my patience with you lot is very, very limited,” he snarled.

Yes, she had. She just hoped it would work.

Quickly she pointed towards him. Then she made a gesture like she was rocking a baby. Then she put her hand to the back of her head, indicating the place where she knew the Doctor had a small scar from an attack he had endured when he was born. As far as she knew, the only people who knew this were his parents and herself, and she hoped it got her point across.

She saw him hesitate.

She repeated the gesture, pointing at him, rocking a baby, reaching behind her head.

He blinked.

She repeated.

You – since you are born – have a scar on the back of your head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, for one time with a full whouffaldi chapter, no way of seeing their relationship as a platonic friendship, even if you squint.  
> Sorry, not sorry. ;)

She saw the hate disappear from the Doctor’s eyes. It was replaced with incredulity and confusion. His arm sank to his side and the poker dropped to the floor.

„Clara!“

It was merely a breath.

He stumbled towards her, walked slowly around the armchair and stood in front of her.

“You are real? Is this… really you?”

His hands were trembling as they reached out to take her face in his hands, as if he couldn’t believe it, as if it wasn’t real if he couldn’t touch her.

His eyes were searching hers, pleading, hoping to find the answer there.

She nodded and smiled, tears of relief filling her eyes.

Slow and insecure he wrapped his arms around her. Then, as if he needed to feel she was really there he tightened his grip and made sure his whole body was as close as possible to hers. She rested her hands on his back, softly stroking it. She felt him stiffen for a short moment, but then his whole body relaxed. For a moment she feared he would collapse as his knees threatened to give way.

Thankfully the sofa was close, so she carefully guided him to sit down.

“I was sure I lost you.”

His voice sounded hoarse and remote. He looked into her eyes. There was still a hint of doubt in them. He carefully let his fingers wander over her throat, searching for something that wasn’t there. 

“Unhurt,” he mumbled.

She brushed a strand of grey curls out of the way to inspect the wound on his forehead. Fortunately, it was not much more than an abrasion. She let her hand rest on his cheek and smiled at him.

He wrapped her in his arms again. He was trembling. His arm was clutching her shoulder as if she would disappear the very moment he didn’t hold her tight enough. He let his head rest against her head.

“Sorry, I…” he sobbed.

She felt he was no longer able to shield his brain. She felt a tidal wave of emotions and memories crashing into her brain.

_She saw how they cut her throat._

_She saw herself slumping to the floor._

_She saw all the blood._

_She felt how it tore both her hearts apart._

_She felt like falling into an endless void._

_She felt utterly lost and alone._

She wanted to comfort him, assure him that it had been just a trick. That they had fooled him like they had fooled her. And that they were together again, that this was the only thing that mattered, that everything was alright.

But she still couldn’t speak, and she didn’t want to let go.

There was just one way to do it, she decided. She searched his lips with hers. After a short moment, he returned her kiss, fervently, desperately. She felt his need to be close to her, to never let her go. And she felt the same.

She reached out with her emotions and memories like he had already reached out with his. Their selves touched each other telepathically and they felt the deep love they held for each other. It was intimate, closer than she had ever felt to somebody. They saw each other in the most complete sense. They saw the soft, bright and caring sides as well as the deep, dark and menacing abysses in each other’s soul. They understood every corner, every wrinkle of the other’s feeling, thinking, being.

Their bodies reacted to what happened in their minds. They undressed, searched, touched, explored, found. But the will to melt together was guided by their minds.

She experienced her own feelings, but at the same time, she also felt what he felt. It was confusing, complex and intense. The ultimate bonding.

Suddenly, a barrier was smashed, and she saw just a gleaming, golden light, a warmth surrounded her, and she had an all-encompassing feeling of comfort and security.

She wished this moment would last forever.

She didn’t know how long it took until she became fully aware of her surroundings again. She realized that they lay on the sofa and she rested against the Doctor’s chest.

She looked up to see him staring to some point far away, absentmindedly stroking her arm with his thumb.

“Do you regret it?”

She asked.

“I will never regret a single moment with you, Clara Oswald,” he answered gently, before his eyes widened and he stared down at her.

Only now she realized that she had spoken. Somewhere during their telepathic bonding, whatever had blocked her ability to speak had given way. She smiled up at him.

“Seems it fixed something.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled back, but turned serious again.

“Why are you brooding, then?”

He placed a soft kiss on her hair.

“I only thought… well… it was a bit… unexpected… hasty… Not the way I would have wanted it to be…”

“It was overwhelming. I think I never felt so… completely… treasured… loved… needed…” she reassured him.

“Overwhelming, that is it. I don’t want to overwhelm you, Clara… I… I want to… care for you… Oh, I don’t have words for it, I just… I just think I can do better!” He explained.

“Then show me, you daft old man.”

She smiled tenderly as she reached up to him, stroking his hair and the small scar. The scar that had saved her from being killed and him from making a terrible mistake that would have killed him in another sense.

He kissed her, this time slowly and gently. She responded alike.

This time, they took their time. They knew each other well. Their adventures had taught them to understand the other without needing many words. They explored each other with complete trust. Their bodies touched more consciously this time. Their minds bonded much more carefully. They took care of the other. They responded to each other’s signs and guided each other to make the most of it.

This time, it was not just two minds bonding and the bodies following suit. This time, it was the melting of two bodies and minds meant to be together.

Later, the Time Lord lay wrapped around the smaller human. They fitted together perfectly, from her head under his chin to his knees in the hollows of her knees. It still seemed as if he needed to reassure himself she was alive by feeling her close.

Their minds touched lazily, not really thinking anything, just feeling each other’s presence. The all-encompassing feeling of comfort and security had prevailed this time.

At least for her.

She sensed that there was something worrying the Doctor.

She concentrated on it.

_Don’t leave me, Clara. How can I go on if you ever leave me, Clara?_

She sighed.

Of course.

She sent him the thought, but she also spoke it out loud, to emphasize how sincerely she meant it:

“Don’t you worry, daft old man. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”

She felt a not entirely convinced mental nod.

“Even when I’m gone, I will be inside your head to take care of you. All you will ever have to do is remember me. That way, you will never lose me.”

He pulled her even closer and sighed.

She knew he would always worry about that, as it was inevitable that she would die before him.

“Since when do you worry about our future, Doctor? It is still to be written. We have all of time and space, and we have each other. Relax and don’t you be afraid. I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”

She felt him relaxing a little.

“You are a very wise woman, Clara Oswald,” he mumbled against her hair.

And his mind added:

_And I love you._

Her heart jumped. He might not have been able to say it out loud, he might never be able to do that, but he meant it. To her, it meant everything.

_I love you, too, Doctor._

It would also take her a while to say it out loud. But she meant it, too.

_For as long as we have together?_

_Lives and incarnations end, Doctor. Love is forever._

He sighed and intertwined his hand with hers.

“Forever would be nice.”

She felt him smile against her hair.

The feeling of warmth, comfort and security spread through their minds and their bodies as they slowly fell asleep, holding each other tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to have at least a bit of a happy time together before Face the Raven, and something that explained the much more relaxed and open Doctor we see in Season 9.
> 
> Sorry, I'm not a smut writer. For those who have expected emotional hurt/comfort smut, I might recommend [When you fall, I'll be there to catch you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520302) by Shiba_K.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know I said it's a three-parter. But then I decided I really, really needed to write out the POV of the Doctor so you understand why he thinks he can do better...

He looked down to the woman that rested against his chest.

He hated himself for what he just did. True, he had longed for this bonding for quite a long time now. He didn’t know for how long.

He always cared deeply for his companions. He wanted to protect them at all costs and suffered miserable if something happened to them. But it was more the care of a father towards his children or a close friend towards the other. It was rare that this changed, that it transformed into something he couldn’t find a word for. His father had once suggested the human term “love” for it, but he found it was too weak. He settled for calling it that if there would be a need to word it, but he wasn’t satisfied with it.

He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he started to feel this way for Clara. He only knew that he had tried to fight this feeling. Even when he had come to the point to admit it to himself, he had tried everything to conceal it. He was sure she didn’t feel the same and he was going to lose her if he ever admitted it.

But then, something had changed. After Skaro, when he had decided to kill this incarnation by regenerating at will, she had stopped him. She had taken care of him and showed him that she accepted him like he was. Not a hero, not a good man, most of the time only an idiot with a box and a screwdriver. She had seen him at his worst and still stood with him. The warmth she had placed in his hearts was nearly too much to take.

He really wanted to melt their minds and bodies and share everything he was with her. But in his phantasies, it always had been a slow, careful and tender introduction. Playful even. Making her feel that he cared so much for her that he wanted to share the most intimate parts of himself with her. He wanted her to see everything he was, the deepest, darkest corners as well as the all-encompassing feeling of care and understanding he had for her. He had wanted to share it slowly; especially as telepathic melting was something unknown to humans and would most likely scare her at first.

What had happened instead was that in the moment he finally realized she wasn’t dead and that he had nearly killed her because he believed she was a Zygon, his emotions had overpowered him. Feeling her close and feeling her soft lips on his had caused his need to share all of himself with her to short-circuit his self-restrain.

What had astonished him the most was that she hadn’t passively allowed him into her brain, she had also actively reached out, sharing herself with him. He was missing comparison, but he always thought it wasn’t possible for a human to respond that way. She was really something special, a human with an equally strong will, brave enough to share everything with him, no matter what it was.

He still hated himself for losing his self-control. He felt that she was exhausted, resting slack against his chest. He listened to her soft, steady heartbeat, the sweetest sound he knew. He smelled her distinct, soothing smell. He had shielded his brain as much as it was possible with her so close to him. He really hoped the bonding had not damaged her in any way.

He had contemplated their relationship and depreciated himself for a while, when he felt the small woman move in his arms.

“Do you regret it?”

She asked him softly and he looked into her brown eyes. Yes, he regretted it. No, he didn’t regret it. He regretted how it had happened, not that it had happened. How should he tell her he regretted it while he wouldn’t regret a single moment that she was by his side? He really wished this incarnation was better with words. But he had to say something, so he tried to speak his mind:

“I will never regret a single moment with you, Clara Oswald.”

Then it occurred to him that she had just _spoken_. For the first time in weeks he had heard her wonderful voice again. Clear, determined, soft, the voice that had given him hope in so many dangerous situations. The voice that bantered, bickered and laughed with him. The voice that had talked him back to life when he was about to give up.

He couldn’t help staring at her with surprise and she stared back at him.

“Seems it fixed something,” she gave him one of her warm smiles and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Seems like it,” he remarked.

“Why are you brooding, then?”

A typical thing for his wonderful, clever, brave, small, roundish, reckless, beautiful, perfect, impossible woman to say. How he had missed this. He placed a soft kiss on her hair and inhaled her smell. He tried to gather his thoughts and to find the right words, which seemed to be an impossible task.

“I only thought… well… it was a bit… unexpected… hasty… Not the way I would have wanted it to be…”

He felt like a stammering, stupid, teenage schoolboy.

“It was overwhelming. I think I never felt so… completely… treasured… loved… needed…”

She said in her most reassuring voice.

He had felt the same, to be honest.

Still, he owed her an apology for what happened and an explanation that it was not how he really would have liked it to happen.

“Overwhelming, that is it. I don’t want to overwhelm you, Clara… I… I want to… care for you…”

Oh, was this all this incarnation could manage? Rambling and stuttering?

“Oh, I don’t have words for it, I just… I just think I can do better!”

He hoped she understood what he wanted to say.

“Then show me, you daft old man.”

He saw her smile and then, she ran her fingers caressing through his hair and to the small scar on the back of his head. He leaned into her soft touch. She would never understand completely how much her acceptance meant to him. He didn’t have words for it. He closed his eyes and felt the need to feel her closer return.

And then, he understood. He was just granted a second chance to do better. Oh, and he would. He would show her that he could do better. A lot better.

He placed a slow and tender kiss on her lips...

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments as always much appreciated! :)


End file.
